Sentinel Lost (Mind Sweeper Series Book 5)

by AE Jones

  He took a step into my office. “It is my business if you compromise the case. Do I need to explain again that I’m in charge of this case?”

  I jumped to my feet. “I’ve been working these types of cases for ten years. I’m not a novice.”

  “Well, telling someone outside the team about our operation is a novice move.”

  “He’s my…” Partner? Boyfriend? Lover? “…boyfriend, and he worries about me.”

  “Is he human?” His gaze tightened on me.

  “What does it matter?” I glared at him.

  “It matters, because another supernatural will keep the secret, right?”

  “I keep the secret. You and Captain Morrison don’t go around plastering it on billboards, either. And we’re all human.”

  “I would still appreciate it if you didn’t tell him about the specific details of the case.”

  “Give me a break. You never told Lauren about your cases?”

  Oh, shit.

  His jaw tightened. “How do you know about Lauren? We haven’t been together for years.”

  How the hell did I know about his ex?

  He practically shook with anger, or was it indignation? “Did you do a background check on me?”

  “Umm. Yes. We needed to know who you were. You aren’t the only one worried about exposure. Don’t tell me you didn’t drill Morrison about all of us before you took on this case. Hell, you watched us in the interrogation room at the police station like animals in a zoo.”

  His eyes widened slightly. Apparently I had hit the bullseye. He backed out of my office. “Get changed and come up front. Let’s get this over with.”

  I shut my door and leaned against it, my heart beating a staccato rhythm as I tried not to cry.

  By all means, let’s get this over with.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, we finished the team meeting and Dalton left. When the door shut behind him, I slumped and scrubbed my hands over my face.

  “You okay, little one?” Misha watched me warily.

  “He’s…”

  “Demanding?” Talia supplied.

  “That’s an understatement. He was cautious before, but now he’s driven by regulations.”

  “You’re not the only one with demons, Kyle.” Misha laughed at his own joke. “You know what I mean.”

  Jean Luc sat next to me at the table. “Do you remember two years ago, when your car skidded on black ice and ended up in the guardrail?”

  “Of course. But I’m not sure what it has to do with anything.”

  “After the accident, you drove under the speed limit for months.”

  I sat up straighter. “It was cold and icy, and I didn’t want to end up in another guardrail.”

  Jean Luc smiled. “Exactly. You were overly cautious and followed the rules. Misha is right. Joe almost died, and he is still recuperating. Still facing his demons.”

  * * *

  I dumped my dress and shoes on my couch, fully intending to consume the entire quart of mocha swirl I kept in the freezer for emergencies. Today had been a mocha swirl kind of day.

  While I stared into my empty freezer, I bit my lip to keep from bursting into tears. Son of a pup. When had I eaten the emergency quart? And why the h, e, double-hockey-sticks hadn’t I restocked it? Before I could launch into even more colorful expletives, someone knocked.

  I peered through the peephole and did a brief happy dance before opening the door with a straight face. “Hey, Tony. What brings you here tonight?”

  Tony was about my height and twenty years my senior. He owned one of the best Italian restaurants in Little Italy and was part empathic demon, which he used to select perfect dishes for his customers. I had become his pet project, and he brought food to me, or sent his son with it, when I was upset.

  “Kyle. I have a delivery here for you.” He held up a white paper bag, and I gave him a quick one-armed hug.

  “What do you have for me tonight?”

  “Some biscotti and a pint of spumoni.”

  “I could kiss you on your empathic lips, Tony.”

  He chuckled. “I am old enough to be your father, and I don’t think my Anna would approve of you kissing me.”

  “I know. Thanks so much. As usual, you showed up with exactly what I need.”

  Tony gazed at me for a moment before nodding. “Do you also need a friendly ear?”

  I gave him another quick hug. “I’m good, Tony.”

  He raised one eyebrow at me, and I sighed. “Fine. I’m not good. But I’ll be okay. Honest. You better get back to the restaurant before Anna sends out reinforcements.” I hugged my bag of spumoni and biscotti. “Thanks for watching out for me. I’ll come see you if I need to talk.”

  Tony left grudgingly, and I pulled the lid off the spumoni and set it on the counter. Then I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I picked up the lid and flipped it into the trash. There would be no leftovers.

  Back in the living room, I plopped into my comfy chair. Even though I didn’t want to talk to anyone, there was one person who deserved to know Dalton’s whereabouts.

  “Marie!”

  I waited for a second but still got nothing. I scooped up a large spoonful and moaned as the icy goodness exploded in my mouth. Then I took another bite and closed my eyes in bliss.

  “Should I leave you alone with your ice cream, Kyle? It looks like you two are having a moment.”

  I opened my eyes. Marie stood across the room, watching me with a smirk.

  “You’re not funny.”

  She floated over in front of me. “I am funny. Isn’t this how our conversation started the other day?”

  “Not exactly.” I set the ice cream container on the coffee table. “Dalton is back.”

  Her grin faded. “What?”

  “Joe is here, Marie.”

  Her face paled. Which was pretty scary, since she was a ghost and melanin was no longer her friend. “I just checked on him a couple of days ago, and he was working a case in Chicago.”

  My stomach dropped. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Of course not. I watch over him. He doesn’t know I’m there.”

  “Well, he’s working a case here now. With me.”

  Marie reached her hand out and then dropped it, as if remembering she couldn’t touch me. “Oh, Kyle. Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “He doesn’t remember you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I have to try to avoid it.”

  Marie frowned. “Maybe you should try to make him remember.”

  “He almost went insane from the memories of his torture, Marie. I can’t risk it. He’s moved on with his life.”

  Marie huffed. “If you consider working all the time and spending the rest of his time alone as moving on with your life.”

  “What?” I sat up from my slouched position on the couch. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  Marie sighed and floated back and forth in front of me as if she was pacing. “When should I have done that Kyle? When you ran away to Nevada and wouldn’t talk to me? Or when you were lying to everyone about the Key possessing you? Or when you moved on and seemed to be happy?

  “And now, finally, you’ve let people get close to you again. You’re starting to act human again. I couldn’t tell you about Joe. What could you have done, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. This is such a mess, Marie. He’s cold now. He has no spark in his beautiful eyes. I took the spark from his eyes.”

  “You saved him.”

  I walked over and stared out the windows at the wet street below. “You know everyone keeps telling me that, but if he’s unable to live his life, then what’s the point of saving him?”

  “My grandson may be a little lost right now, but he won’t be defeated by this. He’ll bounce back. Just like you did.”

  I laughed harshly. “God help him if you’re using me as a g
auge for bouncing back.”

  Chapter 13

  Morning already, and I needed coffee with a capital “C.” I poured some java into a traveler’s mug and flinched when my cell rang.

  “Hey, Mish, what’s up?”

  “Cynthia Hamilton called. She wants us to come to the museum.”

  “How far away are you?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there.” I pulled on my coat and stuffed my phone and wallet into the pockets before grabbing my aluminum mug and loping down the stairs.

  Even though it was damp, the smell of fresh baked goods filled the air. I loved living in Little Italy for many reasons, but the food was definitely at the top of the list.

  I made a quick detour into the bakery and ordered a dozen fry cakes for Misha. Then I climbed into my car and drove to the art museum. Even with the bakery run, I still beat Misha.

  The museum hadn’t reopened yet, but there was a great deal of activity all along the route one of the security guards used to escort me to Cynthia’s office. Today, she seemed much more put together than the last time I saw her. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she had on a steel gray business suit.

  She nodded to one of the guest chairs. “Where’s your teammate?”

  I sat down. “He should be here any minute. There’s a lot going on in here today.”

  “We’re set to reopen tomorrow, and we need to make sure everything is ready to go.”

  Cynthia looked past my shoulder just as the swish of the office door alerted me that someone else had come in.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Misha said.

  “And who’s this?” Cynthia asked.

  I turned in my seat at the question and stifled the urge to grumble.

  “I’m Special Agent Dalton with the FBI.”

  “Captain Morrison told me an agent had been assigned to the case,” Cynthia responded.

  Dalton nodded. “I apologize for the delay in contacting you. I’ve been working the case for two days and had planned to come and speak with you today, so when Misha got your call, I decided to tag along.”

  “No problem. Take a seat, gentlemen.”

  Misha pulled over one of the chairs from the large conference table across from Cynthia’s desk. Dalton sat next to me in the other guest chair.

  “I assume you must have found something, or you wouldn’t have called us in today,” I blurted, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  Cynthia grinned at my enthusiasm. “I followed your hunch, Ms. McKinley, and we examined the items we’d not yet unpacked for the special exhibit. I almost didn’t catch the missing items, since we’d decided not to use these particular pieces in the exhibit after all.”

  “What are they?” Dalton asked.

  “We believe they’re religious artifacts. But we couldn’t authenticate them as being Mayan, so they weren’t going to be used.”

  “Can you describe them?” I asked.

  “I can do better than that.” She opened a folder. “When we receive artifacts on loan, we photograph them for insurance purposes. We’re missing two pieces.”

  Cynthia pulled a photo out and placed it on the desk for us to examine. I leaned forward to study it. It was a stone tablet that appeared to be quite ancient. There was some sort of print on it, but the wording was too obscured to read what it said. As I stared at it, the base of my brain buzzed as if waking up from a deep sleep. I resisted the urge to rub the back of my neck.

  Dalton leaned forward as well. “Do you know what it says?”

  “No. It’s in a dialect we haven’t been able to translate. It was found in a Mayan ruin, but it’s unlike any Mayan artifact excavated in the past.”

  The buzzing grew louder, like a swarm of bees in my brain, and I glanced over to see if anyone else could hear it. Misha’s eyebrow rose at my look, but I shook my head slightly to stop his questions.

  Misha picked up the photo. “Why would someone want to steal this?”

  Cynthia shrugged. “I’m baffled. With all of the priceless pieces that could have been stolen, I’m amazed they chose this tablet.”

  “What about the other item?” Dalton asked.

  Cynthia pulled out a second photo from the folder, and I flinched before I could stop myself. Holy shit.

  I exchanged a startled glance with Misha.

  “What is it?” Dalton asked Cynthia while Misha and I sat there mute.

  “We believe it was used to ward off evil. A talisman. We haven’t been able to interpret the symbols on the box yet. But neither of these pieces are worth breaking into the museum for.”

  I bit my lip to keep from exclaiming how wrong she was. There was every reason to take this piece. Even though my brain insisted it was impossible for the museum to have it. Because it looked exactly like the box Jean Luc kept locked in our office safe. The box that had held the Key of Knowledge.

  * * *

  Several minutes later, I mumbled goodbye to Cynthia and rushed out of the museum, not waiting for Misha and Dalton to finish their conversation. I stumbled toward the parking lot, but when I looked at my shaking hands, I knew I wouldn’t be able to drive for a while. Instead, I went to the other side of the museum to look out over the lagoon. A body of water I was becoming way too familiar with.

  What the hell was I going to do? How could there be another box? And what was I going to tell Dalton? All the things I was trying to protect him from kept raising their ugly heads and threatening to attack.

  “What was that?”

  I spun. Dalton frowned at me from the sidewalk. Had he smiled even once since he’d been back? I stared stupidly at him.

  “I saw the way you reacted to the box. Have you seen it before?”

  Misha walked up and stood beside me, as if to lend support.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. How much of the truth could I afford to tell him?

  “Well?” he pushed.

  “We’ll meet you back at the office,” Misha growled.

  Dalton opened his mouth, and Misha got right up into his face. “This is not the place to talk about it.” He pulled out the keys to the van and held them up.

  Dalton glared at Misha, grabbed the keys, and then took a step back. “Fine. I’ll meet you at the office. Collect yourself, McKinley, and then I want to hear the truth.” He strode away.

  Misha pulled me into his embrace. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. But the sucker-punches just keep on coming. What the hell?”

  “I know, little one. What are we going to tell him?”

  I leaned away from him and looked up into his eyes. “As much of the truth as we can. We tell him about the Key, and the fight for it, but we sure as hell don’t tell him it’s possessed him or me.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to tell him even that much?”

  “He didn’t react to the picture, Mish. No recognition at all. If he was going to remember, don’t you think the Key receptacle would have forced the memories to surface? I have no idea what we can risk at this point, but if this is about the Key, then all hell’s going to break loose. We tell him what we can to appease him, and then we pray that we get a call from Eli very soon so we can locate this demon. Then we send Dalton back to Chicago where he’ll be safe.”

  And then, maybe I’d be safe.

  Chapter 14

  I gazed absently at Dolly as I followed Misha into the reception area.

  On the ride back, Misha called Jean Luc and Talia and filled them in. I’d never heard Jean Luc swear profusely in French before. It sounded much prettier than those same words in English, which had been going off like fireworks in my mind ever since Cynthia Hamilton pulled out the second photo.

  Misha was so upset he didn’t eat any of the pastries. Dolly’s and my eyes widened simultaneously at each other when he placed the unopened box on the reception desk.

  “I’ll be out for some later.”

  At least it sounded like Misha planned to recover from his anxiet
y fairly soon. I couldn’t say the same about me. I reached for the doorknob to the office and hesitated. I prayed that what we were about to tell Dalton wouldn’t trigger his memory. But I had to tell him something. Misha patted my back and then reached around me to open the door.

  Inside an antsy FBI agent and two grim vampires waited for us. I walked into the kitchenette, poured a cup of coffee, and went over to sit at the table.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Dalton demanded.

  I wrapped my fingers around the mug, the warmth grounding me. “Yes. But you have to sit down and stop pacing.”

  His eyebrows hiked up. Maybe he was surprised that I wasn’t going to fight him, or maybe he didn’t like someone telling him what to do. Either way, I couldn’t handle his agitation. He sat down across from me. And I looked into his turquoise eyes.

  “The reason I was so shocked today when I saw the picture of the box is because we’ve seen it before.”

  “Where?”

  “It turned up during a case last year, and the museum director is right. It’s a talisman to ward off evil.”

  “And you think it’s the same box?”

  “No. It can’t be.” I nodded to Jean Luc, and he walked over to the wall safe and opened it, pulling out the box.

  Dalton’s eyes sharpened on the box for a few moments, and then his gaze honed in on me.

  “This is the box from last year’s case,” I said.

  “What does it do?” he asked.

  Now things were going to get tricky. How much did I tell him? “It protects some sort of artifact that supes have been fighting over. Whoever controls it supposedly tips power in their favor.”

  “What type of power?”

  “The power, as in the power of good and evil.”

  He frowned. “And we’re sure this thing is legitimate?”

  “Well, considering the fact that angels got involved last year, I would say it’s pretty serious.”

  Dalton jerked up straighter. “Angels are real?”

  “You have no problem believing in demons and vampires, but you struggle with angels?” I asked.